


Alternatives

by Ars3nicCatnip



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Addiction, Depression, High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 03:16:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/878782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ars3nicCatnip/pseuds/Ars3nicCatnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school AU in which Dave is driving home from a party one night and finds something unexpected on the side of the road. Surprisingly, what he finds happens to change his life completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alternatives

**Author's Note:**

> This is waaaay unfinished. Not sure If I'll really continue it. Started it out of boredom anyways. I tagged quite a few characters because I was planning on them showing up later! bah. this isn't even a full chapter. I'll probably work on it a bit this week if people seem to like it. thanks for reading! c:

Your name is Dave Strider and it is way too fucking late to be driving home from another party. These get-togethers always play out the same; arrive at 10 or so, meander through the crowd ‘til you find someone with the magic stuff, then melt away into the background until your mind comes back enough to drive home. You don’t particularly enjoy the company of any of your peers; it’s just that when you show up to these stupid parties, you don’t have to have money to get high. It sounds pretty pathetic when you think it over, but you’ve already decided that you’re a pretty pathetic dude so it’s not like it really matters. You enjoy all your expeditions that involve being away from the real world way fucking more than any of your sober moments. Honestly, there really isn’t much that you look forward to other than getting high. This fact should probably bother you, but it doesn’t.

 

God, driving really sucks at night. You’re not too fond of the way everything is drunkenly illuminated by the headlights of your shitty car. You steal a glance at the digital clock next to your wrist. 2:56 AM. You’re not too worried about the time; Bro isn’t exactly a stickler when it comes to curfews. Hell, you’ll be lucky if he’s even home when you pull into the parking lot of your apartment building. It’s not really his fault that he’s never home, but that doesn’t stop you from being extremely bitter about it. You’ve grown used to the idea of always being alone. It’s been getting increasingly difficult to accept any sort of friendship, even from your oldest friends. Jade and John text you on occasion but you can never bring yourself to respond. They probably have better things to do anyways.

 

Since your vision always gets a bit blurred when you’re coming down from a high, you’ve had to remove your glasses, which are sitting on the dash in front of you. It’s always kind of baffling how much lighter everything is when you aren’t wearing them. Because of this, you’re able to see a hell of a lot better than usual, which is most likely allowed you to catch the figure on the side of the road. You’re slamming on the brakes before you’re even sure of what you’d seen. What the hell even was that? It looked to you like someone lying face down in the gutter that ran alongside the road. You think about driving away for a minute, but of course your curiosity gets the best of you. You back the car up a few feet and peer out the passenger side. Sure enough, the sight proves your guess correct.

 

“God fucking damnit,” You groan under your breath. You could have driven away, but no. This is your problem now, being that it would be completely wrong to just leave this guy here. You sigh loudly, making sure your car is in park before getting out.It takes you a second to get to the opposite side to inspect the fallen individual you’d happened upon. The way he’s sprawled out, you can only see but one side of his face. Of course, you can still recognize him. Vantas. You’ve seen him at almost every party you’ve attended. Pale as can be with that dark hair and intense eyes, you find it hard NOT to recognize him. 

“Karkat,” You shake his shoulder in an attempt to bring him back into reality. No response. “Karkat, get the fuck up. I’m not gonna haul your sorry ass outta this ditch.” After a minute and a half of silence, you do just that. It’s surprisingly easy to loop your arm under his shoulder blades and lift him from the ground. He makes a little whimpering noise that makes your heart do this shitty fluttering business, leaving you quite red in the face. 

“Jesus Christ Vantas,” You sigh again. He’s pale green, friggin sickly looking as you were after too many roller coaster rides as a kid. From the smell of it, he’s been drinking. You scowl, hoping to fuck that he doesn't spew his guts in your car.


End file.
